


Junk Work

by haveadrink



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haveadrink/pseuds/haveadrink





	1. Chapter 1

She circled to the front of the man, leaning sideways face was directly before his own though her body was curled away from him. She grinned, catlike with a manic gleam to her eye. "Come on, dude. That was some clover rank shit!"

The man lifted a heavy eyebrow, eyeing her with incredulity. He didn't say anything.

"Really! Did you freaking see me? I was amazing! That was definitely clover action! Give me some props!" She pressed, voice a bit wheedling. She twirled around him once again, searching for some sort of glimmer of acknowledgment in his demeanor. After a few moments, she seemed to find what she was looking for and stepped back, straightening her posture.

"Oh, yeah," she grinned. Her chest was puffed out like a preening animal and she folded her arms just below her breasts. "You totally thought I was great! It's okay, Boss, you can show us some affection every now and again. Come on, shower me with praises!"

When the man's sober mask finally cracked, she pumped her fists and curled into herself triumphantly, hissing out a low 'yesssss!'. He stared at her with an expression of both amusement and incredulity. She beamed in his face, bent again so her center of balance was unsteady but her face was directly below his tilted downward and her spine was bowed in a soft curve, feet spread wide apart. He turned his face away but brought up a hand to ruffle her hair.

"Alright, kid. You did well today. I'm proud of you," to an outsider, his voice sounded gruff and monotone, unfit for the words coming out of his mouth, but she knew better. His joy welled up and spilled out through the small, open smile his sported and the shine of his sharp teeth. It was in his gentle fingers in her wild nest of hair. It was in the way his eyes were alight with more emotion than he ever allowed any other to see.

She nodded, smiling so wide her mouth ached. "Yes, sir!"

He shifted his whole body around and straightened out and she followed his lead. "Let's get out of here."

He stalled a few moments, looking through the windows at students piled into their classrooms. The girl wondered what he thought of them. Then, he started forward.

"Ah- um! Wait! Where is my clover charm? I hit clover rank and am therefore owed a clover charm." the girl stated starkly, making her way to block him. She had an affronted look on her face as if he had truly committed a felony before her.

The man rubbed at his temples, eyebrows drawing together. His voice was low, but stern, "Putting aside the fact that you are way out of line- I don't have to tell you to never take that tone with me again-" the girl made a 'pshaw' noise as he spoke this, ignoring the irritated tick in his jaw, "What makes you even think I carry tokens around with me?"

The girl squinted her eyes at him, "Don't you play with me, mister. I can smell them on you."

He rolled his eyes, "If only you had such a keen sense for useful things rather than treats."

He pushed past her and began walking towards the doors. His footsteps echoed loudly in the wide, empty hallway. The girl stayed rooted to her spot until she heard the dull 'ting' of metal being struck. She turned and darted forward, as quick and precise as a shark tracking blood, eyes as feral as one too, and she opened her mouth to catch the token in her jaw. He had flipped it back toward her as he walked away. It settled right between her front teeth and she held it there a moment, savoring the taste of it against the tip of her tongue. Then, there was an unnatural creak and groan as she snapped her jaw completely shut, shredding the metal in her mouth and swallowing thickly. She moaned with unconcerned delight.

The man held the door to the stairwell open and waited for her to catch up. It only took her a few strides. He caught a flicker of green flash in her narrowed eyes as she passed him, smiling sweetly.

"Thank you," she murmured. There was a wicked sway to her hips as she walked.

He shook his head and tutted back to her, "What a fucking monster."


	2. Strawberry Chocolate Crepes

Gemma yawned.

It was already 6:30 AM, but it was Saturday and the kids didn't have any activities to get to on the weekends until the afternoon, so she wasn't worried. With any luck, she might have time to get breakfast done before anyone woke up. She padded into the kitchen lightly, stretching to savor the the dull 'crick-crack' of her spine popping after a long night on the unforgiving nursery floor. To her surprise, the kitchen wasn't empty.

"Oh," she gasped softly, "Mrs. Whittaker! Sorry, I didn't know you were awake."

The woman of the house turned away from the counter so they could look each other in the eyes and gave her a warm little smile that conjured butterflies in Gemma's stomach. She was whipping a smooth, sweet-smelling mixture inside of a bowl and there was some sort of long hotplate plugged into the wall in front of her warming up. There was a plate to the side, piled high with slices of different fruits, and jars of jam and other things that looked like they had far too much sugar in them.

It was obvious that she hadn't bothered to 'dress up' as she usually did. Her hair spilled messily from the confines of a loose bun on top of her head and she stopped to tuck some of the tight spirals behind her ears when they fell over her eyes. Gemma had never seen her in anything but her frankly odd and overtly artistic style of clothing, but she honestly thought the casualness of the pajamas suited Harper just as well as any eye-catching dress would. The pink tee somehow managed to hang flatteringly over her curves, giving her a more lazy than sloppy appearance. There wasn't much to be said about the matching shorts because there wasn't much there. They stopped just above her thighs, where Gemma could see stretchmarks peeking out under- that's quite enough of that, Gemma scolded herself. The early morning light filtered in through the window above the counter, accentuating the sharpness of Harper's cheeks and neck and making her softening the russet tone of her skin in the yellow light.

Without even trying, Harper Whitaker looked absolutely ethereal. It made Gemma simultaneously feel a bit breathless and a bit crummy about her own exhausted appearance at the moment.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Didn't I tell you to call me Harper?" She arched one eyebrow and the corner of her mouth ticked up into a teasing smirk. Gemma turned away, hoping that she didn't catch the glow rising on her cheeks. Gemma hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep to deal with this like a normal person without a significant rise in caffeine levels.

"W-would you mind if I made some coffee?" Gemma winced at the stutter in her voice.

Harper turned back to her mixture, "Not at all. Could you put a bag of lemon tea in a mug for me?"

"Of course. Do you want anything with it? Sugar, lemon, honey? Um, milk? I have a friend from college who puts milk in his tea and I think he said it was a British thing, but I'm sure lots of other people like milk in their tea maybe. Um."

Gemma rambled as she pulled three mugs down from the cabinet. There was little chance Warren would remain sleeping too long if his wife wasn't cuddled up next to him and she was sure he'd appreciate it if he didn't have to wait long for his coffee.

She stifled a giggle as she tried to recall his preferences. She remembered an off-handed comment he made on one of the rare occasions they were alone together:

_"I need my coffee strong and bitter as I have to be when I've got to go up against this political bullshit later."_

She put a few more scoops into the coffee filter than she normally would, knowing she'd have to heavily water down her own cup if she wanted to be able to stand it before filling the electric kettle prepare Harper's tea.

"Four tablespoons of honey, please. I do so like sweet things, you know," Harper chuckled low, her voice still rough with sleep, and maybe Gemma would take that coffee strong because it took her too long to snap back out of her little daze. What was that supposed to mean? "And I'm making breakfast today, dear. What would you like on your crepe and how many?"

"Oh, you haven't got to do that-"

"Answer the question, Gemma," Harper insisted. Her tone brokered no room for dissent.

Gemma smiled softly to herself, "Two, please. With- ooh, are those cherries? Cherries and chocolate sauce, if you don't mind. Is there anything I can do to help?"

She poured the first bit of batter onto the hotplate and Gemma watched as she carefully used some sort of long, wooden tool to spread the batter into a thin circle and cover any bubbles. She hummed thoughtfully for a moment, "I'd appreciate it if you could wake up the kids, have them brush their teeth, and send them down here. Could you also check and see if Ren is up?"

"Of course, ma'am," Gemma nodded and checked to see if the water in the kettle was heating and that the coffee drip was falling into the pot and not into a pool on the counter. Again.

She decided to wake Evelyn first because she would inevitably put up the most fight. Fortunately for Gemma, the sun had risen farther above the horizon in the little bit of time since she'd woken up, and shined in Evelyn's eyes, causing her to blink awake before Gemma had even called her. When she arrived in the room, she was already sitting, legs hung off the side of the bed and trying to gather the energy to face the new day.

"Come on, Lynne Love," Gemma patted the girl's back, "Go brush your teeth and get your slippers on. Your mama's making crepes. I'm sure if you ask nicely, she'll fill it with chocolate or whatever else you'd like."

That seemed to motivate her, but not enough to keep her from dragging her feet along the carpet on the way to the bathroom.

Next, she woke the twins, throwing open their curtains to flood the room with natural light and leaving the door open to air it out of the smell that tended to build up in places where there were boys who played sports and left their doors closed while there was dirty laundry inside. That was a task for later in the day, post extremely strong coffee. They groaned but were quick to brighten up when she casually mentioned Harper's crepes.

"I call first dibs!" Silas shouted, shoving Steven out the way as he kicked over a pile of dirty clothes to dig out his house shoes. Steven shoved him back and Gemma sighed.

"Brush your teeth first," she reminded them, "And where is the dirty clothes hamper? Why is all this on the floor."

"Sorry, Gem," Steven apologized. They both had the decency to at least look a bit bashful, "My soccer stuff was in the wash and I forgot to get it out. And Sie's stuff from when he was out doing all that stuff in the mud."

"You'll have to wash them again if they've gone sour," she tutted, "Now go on, you two, there's food and family waiting."

Poor little Katheryn was still asleep in her bed. Gemma put a hand to her forehead. It was still warmer than average, but not the burning it was the night before. She picked the child up and held her close to her chest.

"Wake up, lovey," she cooed softly, "Mama wants to see you. Do you feel any better?"

Gemma wasn't expecting an answer, but she took the bleary look Katheryn gave her rather than screaming as a positive sign. The little girl curled her tiny fists into her shirt and tucked her head into her neck. Gemma smiled.

"Let's go check on your papa, then."

She knocked softly on the master bedroom door at the end of the hall.

"Excuse me? Mr. Whittaker, are you awake? Harper- I mean, Mrs. Whittaker is making crepes for everyone. She told me to let you know, but if you're still asleep, I can let her tell her that, but- Ah, I guess if you're asleep, you wouldn't really answer me, would you?" Gemma trailed off again. She startled sharply when the door opened to reveal Warren in the same state of dress she'd found Harper in earlier- just, with drawstring pants instead of super short shorts and instead of a loose, but flattering t-shirt, he was wearing no shirt. For a moment, she was left staring at the light smattering of hair on his chest at her eye level before she remembered the basic human principle of eye contact. She quickly jerked her eyes up instead of down, down, down his healthy physique to follow the light hair to where it gathered in a V-shape that disappeared beneath the low hanging pajama pants- not that Gemma was looking, of course not. The hair on the right side of his head was smashed against his skull and his jaw bore the shadow of new growth.

It wasn't fair that this entire family was pretty, Gemma mused.

He yawned deeply and then smiled at Gemma, looking from her to his youngest daughter curled up in her arms, and back again, "Good morning, Gemma and Kathy. I'm sorry, but I didn't hear a thing you said. Could you start over?"

"Oh, it's- it's nothing," Gemma stammered, "It's, ah, crepes. Harper is making crepes and she wants everyone to wake up to eat crepes. If you want. And coffee. Mrs. Whittaker, I mean. Is doing... that. Yes."

"The both of you are angels, I swear," he mumbled, "Yeah, I'm coming. Gimme a bit."

"Gotcha. Um," Gemma continued to ramble, even as Warren turned and closed the door behind him. Kathy sniffed and lifted her head away from her shoulder to stare into her eyes. Gemma nodded, "Yeah, you're right, babe. Crepes. Maybe some oatmeal for you, though. How's that throat?"

She held the child close to her and made sure to take careful steps down the stairs so as not to jostle her. She moved Kathy to rest in one arm before pulling her highchair out of the closet and dragging it to the dining room. Harper was already there setting everyone's plates at their seats at the circular table. She grinned at Gemma as she entered.


End file.
